


Welcome to the Madness

by AristaWebb



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anal Sex, Beka is with Yuri, Canon Compliant, Cybersex, Everyone makes bad choices, Hand Jobs, JJ wishes it was him, Kissing. It's mostly about kissing. With sex., M/M, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Post-Canon, Post-Series, Skaters win medals, Teens screw up having sex, This is gunna get messy, This thing got out of control, no easy way out
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2017-04-13
Packaged: 2018-10-17 20:45:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10601910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AristaWebb/pseuds/AristaWebb
Summary: Canon compliant post-series finishing 2017 skating season.Yuri's 'friendship' with Beka has fast escalated since the Grand Prix to a physical one but after JJ kisses him at the Four Continents he's torn between curiosity and not knowing any better.-JJ thought he was straight, not to mention he's engaged to a woman he loves, but after he sees Yuri kissing Otabek at the Grand Prix Banquet he fantasises about kissing Yuri. About Yuri wanting to kiss him. Compulsion damns consequences when he kisses Yuri at the Four Continents.-There's only weeks till the World Championship. How much can two people royally screw up in that time?Ask the King.





	1. Yuri and Beka

He wasn’t sure whether it had been watching Viktor cosy up to the Katsudon all night, the several flutes of Champaign he’d snuck when Yakov wasn’t watching or just the warm pressure of Beka’s leg lined up against his on the sofa. Mila had been around, he couldn’t remember what they’d been talking about, but then the circle had dissipated to another room leaving only him and Beka. Really all he could think about was that leg against his. His hands twitched and his mouth felt suddenly dry and he couldn’t really bring himself to look at the boy next to him, just press his leg into his a little harder.

Then Beka’s hand came to rest on his knee and that was it.

Beka was moving and Yuri was moving and then he was in Beka’s lap and pressing his mouth against his. Beka’s hands were on his thighs and he could feel them through his suit trousers. He brushed his fingers through the long and short hair to cradle Beka’s head as his friend kissed him back fiercely. Yuri had barely kissed anyone, fantasised more than he had actual experience. He’d thought he wanted Viktor once but that wasn’t important now.

They separated, both flushed and gingerly looked round but their corner of the venue was still unoccupied. Yuri still in Beka’s lap. Then their eyes met and they started to laugh, so hard that Yuri found himself tipping and they both stumbled a little to their feet.

They’d gone back to the party and said no more about it. Afterall, Beka was flying back to Kazakztan tomorrow and Yuri would be returning to Russia, with Viktor and the Katsudon in tow apparently.

That didn’t mean he stopped thinking about it though.

.

.

.

The training for the European Championships had been hard. In a good way. For all the attitude there was a fire in Yuri that he couldn’t ignore. Always to push just a little bit harder. The burns from the ice, the bruises from the falls, they didn’t matter. What mattered was landing quad after quad, upping the difficulty of every jump. Pushing himself till he was nearly bent double, folding in on himself like a pretzel. Whatever it took.

His Agape still needed work though.

Despite what he might have said to the contrary he thought having Viktor and the Katsudon around would help. He thrived on a challenge. But watching them, watching them watch each other, all it did was light a different kind of fire.

This time last year he’d jacked himself off to Viktor, thinking himself half in love, half in awe and half in irritation with the other Russian. Mila had looked at Viktor that way. Georgi had looked at Viktor that way. Viktor didn’t look back. Just left for Japan without a word and came back with a ring on his finger. He didn’t want Viktor now. Not because the Katsudon had gotten there first, honestly Yuri didn’t what to know what they’d gotten to, but because it hadn’t been true.

Beka would message over Skype when he could, they’d sit on video chat for hours, stretching, laughing and wishing they were in the same room.

Then they had been. Beka had come to train with them and Yuri felt some of that jealous fire go out a little bit. He’d introduced Beka to his grandfather, watched his face when he tried piroshky (not Katsudon!) and smiled in utter delight. They’d shared Yuri’s old room that night, an old mattress on the floor by his bed. They’d just been talking and Yuri’s arm slipped off the bed, dangling his hand down, and then Beka’s fingers were in his and Yuri was pulling him up, into the bed and under the covers.

They lay like that, face to face on their sides, knees entwined and playing with each other’s fingers. The low light cast long shadows over Beka’s dark eyes, his lashes looked thicker and Yuri couldn’t stop watching his eyelids flutter. He pressed forward and Beka met him, mouth to mouth , hands moving to shirt fronts, outside arms moving around and not knowing what to do with the arms left trapped between them.

Yuri pushed himself up, rolling Beka onto his back and kept kissing, blond hair falling around them like a curtain. He hadn’t cut it, it was long enough to tickle Beka’s cheeks which made the other skater smile into their kisses. The next time they rolled Beka was on top and the duvet was half off the bed but they didn’t care. Yuri looped his arms around Beka’s neck and pulled him down for more kisses, then he felt that warm mouth against his jaw, felt the slight stubble graze his neck and moaned at the open mouth kiss to his collar bone. Yuri smacked a hand over his mouth, and they both when rigid, Beka in response to Yuri as they listened to the old house creak around them. From somewhere came the distant sounds of snoring and Yuri relaxed.

Beka sat up between Yuri’s legs, both boys just looking at each other, looking over each other, mussed hair, dilated eyes, flush lips and rising chests. Slightly sheepishly the Kazakh skater had slid from the bed and back onto the mattress and wished Yuri good night.

They fell asleep holding hands though.

Yuri had vented his frustration next day on the ice. He couldn’t pin down his frustration. He’d taken longer in the shower this morning but it wasn’t just that.

His Agape was worse than the day before.

When Viktor had commented Yuri had bit his head off and as usual he’d been laughed down which only left him more frustrated than before.

That night there had been more kissing. But Yuri was prepared this time, so when Beka’s mouth skimmed his neck he muffled the sound so they didn’t stop. He hadn’t realised his nipples were hard until he felt them graze against Beka’s chest when the other boy pressed into him as they kissed. That’s when he pulled his shirt off, pushing Beka down to lie on his back so Yuri could press into his side. In the moonlight through the curtains Yuri’s skin looked white, a ghostly hand tracing patterns through the dark hair across Beka’s chest and trailing down his stomach to his boxers. Felt the muscle beneath the skin tense as his nails skimmed the sides, ticklish maybe, saw the abs flex and felt something throb inside of him at the sight.

He trailed wet kisses over the tan skin, round the shoulder, dragged his tongue over a dark hardening nipple and watched Beka bite his lip. He could see the tent in his shorts, Yuri swallowed, pressed himself against the other’s side as he reached a hand down to cup Beka through his shorts. Beka’s hand closed all the way round his wrist and Yuri stilled, frowning at Beka. They were both flushed and Yuri felt like he was vibrating when Beka whispered.

“You’re fifteen.”

Flushed now with embarrassment and suddenly feeling very much a boy Yuri rolled over to face the wall, curled around himself and shrugged Beka’s hand away when it touched his shoulder. He felt the mattress dip in his favour as Beka got out and settled again on the floor.

They fell asleep facing away from each other.

The next day Mila is back on the ice and Yakov is berating her for spending too much time socialising and not enough time practicing if her current form is anything to go by. Yuri had seen the pictures of her trip to Naples on Instagram, her and Sara kissing Emil’s cheeks , selfies after with an enraged Mickey, cocktails against old buildings and sunsets. Too much time drinking no doubt. She hugs Georgi, she pinches the Katsudon’s cheeks, skates a little with Viktor and then pauses to watch Otabek take his guards off. It’s getting a little crowded on the ice since they don’t have exclusivity but the normal patrons are happy enough down one end, they like to watch. Less likely because they’re avid fans and more because they’re all so _pretty_.

Viktor is pretty in an elegant sort of way, everything from his legs to his fingers stretched out, he might have been a pianist in another life. The Katsudon is pretty, in that genderless, ageless way, all big innocent eyes and big innocent motions. Georgi tries to be pretty, all eyelashes and theatre and overly romantic bordering on clingy. Mila is pretty in the way girls are, it’s easier for girls to be pretty, lips shiny with pink gloss. Her shirt rides up when she stretches and there’s a hint of pink bra and Yuri knows Beka saw it because he was watching Beka watch Mila.

Beka isn’t pretty. It’s not just the lack of ballet training, he’s just not _pretty_. Yuri doesn’t know what he is but as soon as he starts to skate Beka’s eyes are back on him as they should be.

He puts too much into his jumps and Yakov scolds him but he feels a little better afterwards.

His muscles ache when he climbs into bed that night, Beka is still brushing his teeth and Yuri doesn’t know whether to face the wall, lie on his back or watch the door. He knows he didn’t like it when Mila had her hands on Beka, helping him with a stretch and fixing his posture for a spin. Her eighteen year old hands. He’s flush with embarrassment again and is about to roll over to the wall when Beka comes in.

He’s had a shower too, there’s a towel round his neck and his hair is dripping water and sticking in odd spikes. Yuri swallows hard as he watches a drop slide down Beka’s neck and over his chest. He’s wearing boxers though and Yuri doesn’t know if he’s disappointed, but Beka is looking at him in a way that is so intense. He pulls the covers back and that’s apparently the invitation Beka was waiting for as he climbs in beside him.

His skin is damp and he smells so clean and vaguely of lemon, his jawline is freshly shaven and Yuri trails his mouth along it which starts them both off again. Cool hands on flushed skin, wet, open mouth kisses and hot breath leaving chills in its wake. But Yuri is hard and he can see Beka is hard and he wants to do something but he doesn’t know what. He’d teased Beka’s stomach, traces his tongue towards the waistband but Beka had pull him up for more mouth kisses and whilst he was enjoying them it was still a no. And whilst Beka’s hands are running over his back and his chest and setting as his waist tracing circles with his thumbs and making Yuri feel exactly how small he is compared to those hands, he’s not really _doing_ anything. Except turning Yuri on.

Then he can’t help it, he rocks his hips into Beka’s and really, whatever sponsored designer label is on the waist the fabric is still thin. And there’s really nothing like the feel of a cock, especially one lining up against your own. Yuri groans and it’s a good thing his Grandpa isn’t home tonight because that was louder than it should have been.

Beka’s grabbed his hips and practically thrown him down beside him. Not literally but Yuri felt the sudden force and wants to object, but doesn’t want to stop, but he’s frustrated and wound up so fierce turquoise soldier eyes meet Beka’s in what starts as a challenge as he thrusts his own hand down to do what Beka won’t. The waistband is in the way but it steady’s his wrist and whilst he wanted contact it’s a little overwhelming to be doing it himself in front of someone else so maybe the support is a good thing. But Beka isn’t looking away, in fact his breathing is harder, his mouth is open and he licks his lips.

“Don’t stop.”

It’s a whisper and Beka’s voice sounds so thick and it’s so unexpected that it nearly sets Yuri off. He’s harder now and the strokes are coming faster and he doesn’t know whether he wants to make it last or cum. Normally he’d be silent, he’s never felt the need to make noise, but with someone else there and no reason not to suddenly there are all sorts of noises tumbling out of his mouth. Beka has slipped his arm under Yuri’s neck to cradle his head and Yuri is pressing his cheek into Beka’s shoulder straining. He notices Beka’s other hand has moved, it’s going slow in his own shorts and that does it. Maybe part of him had doubted that Beka wanted him. Between skating and schooling and the distance they hadn’t tried to put words to what they were doing. Just doing.

But as he came down from his orgasm, cock already softening and eyelids feeling suddenly heavy as his body went lax, watching that hand pump slowly, seeing the nest of dark curls and glimpse of the head under the waistband he felt so… _sexy_. He was the reason Beka was hard, flushed from chest to neck, groaning and rolling his hips into hand. Yuri watched fascinated as he picked up the pace, thumb skimming the head and strokes growing longer as he got harder. Yuri presses into Beka’s side, he wants to be close, he wants to touch but he knows if he tries he’ll spoil the moment and Beka shuddering against him musn’t be allowed to stop.

Beka’s jaw clenches, “So close,” his voice is hitched and comes out in a strangled moan when Yuri presses a kiss to his jaw. He feels him jerk and as fascinating as the site might have been Yuri is too busy watching Beka’s fast as he cums, head rolled towards Yuri and eyes looking up at him. Yuri leans down to where Beka’s pulse is throbbing in his neck and kisses and sucks. Beka grips at him but he doesn’t stop and when he comes away he’s found his new favourite thing to do. The mark isn’t fading and the noises Beka made were worth it.

Especially when Beka wore a higher collar than usual to practice and flushed red when Mila commented on it.

But Beka had to go home and Yuri had to go to the European Championships.

They’d kissed a lot more, left marks on each other, skin speckled pink and red. Beka still hadn’t really _touched_ Yuri, but the blond had cum in his shorts rutting against Beka’s leg as he got himself off. It was a start. They’d had to be quiet though since his Grandpa had come back from his fishing trip and Beka had been worried about the smell. He’d taken to shutting Potya out of his room at night, there was something off putting about having the cat in the room whilst making out.

Something Potya made him pay for by taking a month of sulking before he’d sleep beside Yuri again.

But Potya had liked Beka, so Yuri took that as a good sign.

.

.

.

Yuri won the gold, Emil took silver and Chris took bronze.

.

.

.

“What, no cat ears this time?”

“Fuck off.”

“You’ll cheer for me, won’t you Yuri?” JJ smirks down at Yuri, his hair’s grown a bit in the past couple of months and he seems a little taller. At nineteen he’s done pretty much all his growing but like most skaters he knows an inch can mean everything and Yuri’s only fifteen. There also seems to be less hostility between them, but maybe that’s because Yuri’s not skating. He’s probably here to support the other Yuri and Otabek, they’ve grown close since the Grand Prix and JJ would never tell Yuri but he occasionally scrolls the other skater’s Instagram, saw pictures of them with his cat, cute.

“Like hell I will.”

JJ doesn’t know why teasing the younger Russian gives him such a thrill, he’s fascinating to watch, even when he’s angry. There’s a meme that cats are liquid, Yuri is liquid, fluid and somehow all sharp edges. He’s wearing his Russia hoodie, cheetah print sneakers up on the chair on front of him and hands shoved into his pockets. It makes him seem so young.

“Really? All that hair you look just perfect for the part of a JJ Girl,” JJ winks.

Yuri snaps.

He’s jumped up and holding JJ by the scruff of his jacket, sneer in close and bright turquoise eyes sharp as ice. JJ swallows his tongue. Not in fear but something awfully else that he’s tried not to think about for months.

Sexy ice dancing wasn’t new, but honestly, even though he’d seen similar before, but something about that slide in Yuri’s exhibition skate after the Grand Prix in December had been in more than one of his dreams. He’d tried to forget those smoke lined eyes. It hadn’t worked. He’d looked down into Bella’s eyes and they weren’t quite blue enough to forget. Not quite blue enough to remember.

“Down kitty,” the pet named roles off his tongue so easily it’s a wonder he’s not used it before. Yuri actually growls. It would be hilarious if it hadn’t sent a shiver down his spine.

“You’re not worth it anyway,” Yuri’s lip curls and JJ has to remind himself Yuri is fifteen. Then ask himself why he needs reminding. He’s straight. He’s engaged. He thought he’d straightened this out.

Yuri releases him, shoves his hands back in his pockets and stalks off to find somewhere better to sit. Somewhere further from JJ no doubt.

The skaters are called to the ice for warm ups and JJ sees Otabek flash Yuri a thumbs up, sees the genuine smile that slips behind that curtain of blonde hair and is gone as Otabek moves out onto the ice. JJ is too busy checking himself for nerves that he doesn’t think when he supresses the jealousy too. He’s cool, he’s got this. He shuts his eyes and takes a deep steadying breath, there’s nothing quite like the air on the ice. There’s a crispness to it, a focus. The tap and schlick as the blades kiss the ice, the pull through his hair as he’s in motion and the stadium melts away. He can vaguely hear the gentle chant from the stands for JJ. He’d pulled back a medal from the brink at the Grand Prix and they were possibly more excited for the comeback than if he’d actually taken the gold. Besides, he’d promised Bella a gold medal wedding, and who was he to disappoint his best fan.

She’s there in the stands, sharp cut black bob and fresh acrylic nails, his initials at her throat and foundation to cover the marks he’d left there only last night. Her bright red lipstick stands out and he blows her a kiss that she catches with a wave. His fans swoon. They’re surprisingly supportive of his relationship, JJella apparently is a hashtag.

He catches sight of a couple of what might be Yuri’s Angels in the crowd, they’re wearing cat ears at least. Here for a glimpse of him. It’s cute. His following is a lot younger than JJs, but Yuri is young himself. That would change in time. Yuri would age. He’d looked so sharp at the Grand Prix banquette, dressed to the nines in pin stripes. He’d looked good straddling Otabek’s lap. JJ shook his head, now wasn’t the time. Instead he ran his short programme through his head until the warm up was finished.

Seung-gil skates before he does, maybe it’s because he’s on home turf but he’s come back with a vengeance but JJ isn’t really interested. He’s waiting for Yuri Katsuki to skate. JJ knows he’s technically a more proficient skater, but Katsuki is an emotional skater which at least makes him interesting to watch. Word is he’s persuaded Viktor to return to the ice for the Worlds, JJ had wondered if he might come back for the European Championship (because JJ wouldn’t be there to take the gold from him!) but either he was saving himself or maybe he was just out of shape. JJ had choreographed his programmes to deny Viktor his sixth consecutive gold and he had to admit, for all the bluster about Viktor running away from him, that he’d been a little disappointed that the older Russian had just up and left. The thought of him returning…he’d thought it would make the prospect of winning the gold that much more exciting but he’d found his interests had shifted.

His eyes found Yuri in the crowd, that pale blonde hair visible even in the dimmed light of the stands. His feelings towards competing against Yuri weren’t like against Viktor. There’s almost a forgone conclusion to beating on-edge of retirement skaters when you’re in your prime. Most try to avoid it, go out on a high otherwise you end up like Chris. Always a silver never a gold. But Yuri just didn’t seem to stop, always something slightly different, always pushing, chest heaving after every programme and collapsing to the ice. He’d never seen Viktor lose his composure like that.

It was partly in his own buckling during the Grand Prix short programme and watching Yuri that he realised that Viktor had never pushed his limits in that way. Always precise, always elegant, always a guaranteed win. It wasn’t that he did ‘just enough’, or counted points, it was always just so…effortless. When he’d realised that the night between the short and free programmes he’d been furious. Falling short of someone’s utter best you can respect, he’d felt no shame standing next to both Yuri’s on the Grand Prix podium, but to realise he’d lost to someone who didn’t even need to try to beat him…there weren’t really words.

He wanted Viktor back on the ice so he could see Yuri defeat him and then take the gold from Yuri.

Said skater looked at him then and flipped him off.

Caught staring JJ winked and gave him a mock salute.

.

.

.

He’d done well, beaten his personal best and certainly vanished any doubts about his state of mind. But now they had a day off between the Short and Free Programmes so he and Bella had decided to go out to celebrate. He’d seen some of the other skaters earlier, trailing out in a group behind the two Yuris flanked by Viktor and Otabek. The new awesome foursome. JJ had never really felt isolated from the other skaters until the Grand Prix and now it nagged at him. They didn’t _like_ him. There wasn’t comradery. There wasn’t even banter. And you know, when they’d all walked out on his marriage proposal it had _hurt_.

Maybe you get too many feelings as you get older. He sighed. Twenty this coming summer. Twenty-one was meant to be the next big number but the prospect of not being a _teen_ anymore felt like a quarter of a century than a year.

He and Bella had been strolling along the river front, his leather jacket round her slim shoulders when they’d come across them. An old style Korean house serving traditional dishes, he might have passed it by, might have made some brag, but actually he kind of wanted to be part of the crowd. They were spread out down a line of low wooden tables looked to be carved out whole trunks. Someone bumped his shoulder.

“Sumimasen.”

It’s Katsuki and Pitchit, their cheeks are pink and they look like they’ve been rushing.

“Yuri!” Viktor cries out in delight, his shirt front is open and his cheeks are pink too. His reason is he’s drunk. Or getting there.

Yuri and Pitchit’s attention is still on JJ and Bella and the attention of the table turns there way too. He feels Bella press into his side, she doesn’t like feeling on the outside.

“Mind if we join you?” he flashes them a winning smile and maybe they’re stunned or just too polite to say no but they hesitantly agree. Everyone budges up and JJ ends up between Leo and some kid with a hairstyle right out of anime who introduces himself as Minami and says he’s here to support Yuri-kun in broken English. Katsuki is developing an entourage. Bella is opposite him and looking marginally uncomfortable at being the only woman at the table, she’s between Pitchit and Guang who are busy showing her pictures they’ve taken whilst site-seeing. Back in Canada she’s a model and soon they’re talking cameras and photos and angles and duck-facing into eye fluttering selfies like they’ve been comfortable for years. The owners of the establishment are relieved at the site of the diamond on her ring finger and suddenly she’s okay. She’s always been a natural like that, she just glides up to people and then she’s in their circle, it’s one of the many things he loves about her.

Up the other end of the table Katsuki is only managing to do up one button for every two Viktor undoes and it’s clear to JJ that Viktor isn’t as far gone as Katsuki thinks he is. But Viktor is looking at Katsuki in a besotted sort of way and JJ suddenly feels a bit uncomfortable. Not because of the gay thing, hell most people are at least a little bit bi these days, takes an awful lot of shades of maple leaves to make a tree and the syrup’s still as sweet and all that but because that’s how he should be looking at Bella. He does. He is. But he’s got just the right angle to see something he’s probably not meant to.

Yuri’s hand is on Otabek’s thigh and he’s leaning into him a little much, and Otabek’s fingers are finding his and dragging their hands under the table. The food comes and JJ isn’t quite sure what he’s ordered. Leo isn’t either and they end up swapping because Leo’s gone red and needs a lot of water because he didn’t realise the dish was hot. Then Minami wants a group shot, he borrows Pitchit’s selfie stick and they all lean in as best they can and JJ can see in the mirrored image Otabek’s arm around Yuri’s shoulders. It’s gone by the time he turns back around.

They traipse back to the hotel in little groups. Viktor propped up between Yuri and Pitchit with Guang and Minami fluttering around like worried little birds.

Leo is talking to Bella and JJ finds himself falling into step with Yuri and Otabek, though it’s clear the former is disgruntled by his appearance. He could have sworn he saw Yuri take his hand out of Otabek’s but it’s the other side of him so he’s not sure. Otabek gives him a once over and doesn’t appear to be up for starting conversation. “You did good today.”

An arched eyebrow as a response.

“I liked the change in jump sequence, and the new spin,” JJ is trying but they’re not biting, “Did Yuri teach you that in Russia?”

“Hn, thanks,” Otabek surrenders. For all that he’s stoic and prone to be a loner, in his defence JJ has never known him to actually be rude.

“What do you want?” Yuri snaps at him and JJ goes from awkward small talk to a pattern he knows.

“Oh Kitten I’m just making conversation,” JJ smirks. He expects the spitting remark from Yuri. He’s not sure what to make of the sudden tension in Otabek’s shoulders.

“Go bother someone else.”

“You’re breaking my heart kitten.” Otabek’s shoulders square and JJ suddenly feels that now is the time to make a retreat. Otabek’s barely taller than Yuri, he makes them both look like kids, but Otabek is a fierce looking kid and actually the same age as him. Not to mention Yuri is glaring daggers but he’d never really do anything.

“Well boys, enjoy your evening,” he winks and gives them a mock salute like he’s not feeling rattled and effortlessly Segway’s between Bella and Leo, an arm around each of their shoulders. Leo’s a bit surprised at first but they get to talk about their faith and then they’re back at the hotel and everyone’s saying goodnight.

Despite their staggering Katsuki and entourage had gotten there a while ago and were long out of site, Leo’s on the ground floor so he leaves JJ and Bella to summon the elevator. The doors open and all four of them freeze.

Yuri is up against the wall and it’s hard to argue that he’s been kissing Otabek as his lips are swollen and damp, his shirt hiked a little. Startled turns to furious as Yuri lunges for the buttons and presses so hard JJ thinks it might break the panel.

“Well…” is all Bella manages as the doors slide shut and they wait for the next one.

JJ can’t really say much either as his mind’s gone blank and he’s a little hard. Bella takes it that seeing two people make out has got him riled up and readily wraps her legs around his waist as their car cranks its way up the floors. He presses against her and she moans his name into his mouth, his jacket has fallen off her shoulders and to the floor and he can feel her nails through his shirt. It’s late enough that they’re not interrupted as he carries her to their room, fumbles with the key and they fall into bed. He takes her hard and fast, normally there’s be more kissing but he’s too busy looking in her eyes and almost wishing they were a greener shade of blue.

.

.

.

JJ won the gold, Katsuki the silver and Otabek took bronze. Pitchit came a close fourth but JJ and Katsuki were almost guaranteed spots and Otabek had upped his game. Maybe they’d found time for training between whatever he and Yuri were.

The blonde had refused to look at him, wouldn’t even speak to him. He’d kind of saw that coming.

Now they were all suited and booted again for the banquet and JJ was kind of hoping for a return of the pinstripe number. He was half thinking the little Russian had bailed all together when he was being dragged, with surprising strength, into a toilet and the bolt rammed behind him.

“You saw nothing, you understand me?”

Oh. Okay. Making sense now.

JJ can’t help himself, he’s smirking, hooking his fingers into his belt loops, “Saw what?”

“Don’t give me that shit.”

“Sorry Kitten, no idea what you’re talking about,” JJ grins and leans into Yuri’s personal space, “Why don’t you tell me?”

Yuri has him by the lapels and rams him against the door.

JJ chuckles, “Careful Kitten, someone might hear the noise and wonder what we’re up to.”

Yuri snarls, “You run your mouth and I will end you.”

It’s adorable. He’d seen a movie once, something about come 90, come 10, and Yuri’s basically at 90, so JJ comes 10. Now he’s pressing into Yuri’s space, pressing him backwards and until the other is pressed between him and the wall and they’re kissing. Or JJ is kissing Yuri at least. Yuri doesn’t seem to know whether to grab at him, or the wall or whether to kiss him back.

Then a punch wallops JJ in the face and he stumbles off balance into the toilet.

The door has slammed before the room has quite stopped spinning and JJ has to go back to the party with a split lip and a hasty excuse.

.

.

.

Yuri is angry. Not frustrated. Borderline confused. And very. Very. Angry.

He smashes a glass, not entirely meaning to and doesn’t get himself under control.

Viktor has to man-handle him into a private room till he stops seeing red but Yuri won’t tell him why he’s so furious.

Viktor suggests he go sleep it off but Yuri is more angry at the prospect of that asshole JJ showing his face whilst he’s hiding in a hotel room. Taking the fucking piss he was. Yuri wanted to strangle him.

Viktor stayed with him until he was at least outwardly calm and he went back to the party.

He stuck close to Beka but he couldn’t really focus. Even a gradually more and more inebriated Katsudon didn’t do much for his mood. Beka snuck him a couple of drinks as the night went on and he began to relax a little bit more. He thought JJ might be smug, but he seemed to be avoiding Yuri. Was he trying to mess with his focus for the Worlds? Or just taking the piss out of him and Beka?

It was gone midnight by the time they stumbled to Beka’s room. Beka’s room that Yuri was sharing. Beka’s room that only had one bed.

Usually they’d already be kissing but Yuri was still in a funny mood so Beka shrugged out his jacket and hung it up in the cupboard to avoid creasing. Then he helped Yuri shrug out of his jacket and did the same. It was strangely intimate as Beka gently loosened his tie and started to undo the buttons on his shirt. Yuri watched his hands work the buttons, strong hands and strong fingers then back up to Beka’s face. Beka was looking down at what his hands were doing, now tugging Yuri’s shirt out of his waistband and reaching for the belt buckle.

Yuri tipped forward and pressed his mouth to Beka’s. Usually their kisses were hot and heavy and fierce but this was something else. Something uncertain and questioning. Yuri felt Beka’s mouth moulding against his.

 Drink has a way of loosening Beka’s inhibitions and he’s muttering hot against Yuri’s ear as he backs him towards the bed, shrugs out of his shirt and tumbles down on top of him. Things he wants to do to Yuri. Thinks Yuri wants him to do to him. His birthday is less than ten days away and that’s enough, coupled with the drink it seems, for Beka to reach into Yuri’s shorts and stroke his growing erection. Yuri’s making little cries, rutting into Beka’s hand, jerking against Beka who has a knee between Yuri’s legs and the other foot still on the floor. Yuri’s legs are bent over the edge of the bed and pressing up onto his toes, leather shoes creaking with the bed springs. He fists one hand in the sheets and the other in the long strands of Beka’s upper cut and pulls Beka’s mouth to his as he cums over his own stomach. He swipes his tongue about Beka’s lips and Beka doesn’t respond, instead goes to trail kisses down Yuri’s jaw.

JJ had used tongue.

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.

.

Yuri couldn’t decide whether to be excited or frustrated. Viktor had announced they were all going for a spa weekend. In Hasetsu. It’s the weekend after Yuri’s birthday and Viktor’s already paid for Beka’s flight ticket so it’s not like he can say no. Yuri’s not sure what Viktor knows, or what he thinks, but his skating’s been off since the Four Continents and maybe Viktor just thinks Yuri needs a friend and a break. Breathe a different kind of air.

Yuri can’t decide what do about JJ. He seems to have gone back to life as normal with Isabelle, training in Canada and posting all over Instagram and Twitter about #lovinglife. He hasn’t told Beka. Beka isn’t the only one Yuri’s kissed, and now JJ is on that list and he doesn’t know if that makes him want to throw up, but he is the only one he’s done any of the…other stuff with. The one he’s kind of maybe hoping to have sex with. He thinks anyway.

But he’s kind of just assumed their thing is their thing. There hadn’t been a need to define it and now defining it seems too late as that smug Canadian douche canoe has already had his say.

He has talked to Beka about the sex though. Lieing in bed together after the Four Continents, the only light in the room the screen of Yuri’s phone as Beka finally toes off his socks. Beka’s made out with girls before but he’s never had sex. Yuri’s kissed both but never had sex. There’s something trilling about being Beka’s only guy. They’ve got an earbud each and Beka is playing Yuri a mix he’s put together for them. It makes Yuri feel a bit guilty as he’s not really done anything for a _them_.

“This sounds weird,” Yuri thinks out loud, reading something about shoving water up his ass. That doesn’t sound sexy at all.

Beka’s arm is under his head, one of Yuri’s favourite things is to rest into Beka’s shoulder. Beka’s using his free hand to do the scrolling while Yuri holds his phone up. Yuri’s other hand is tracing lazy patterns on Beka’s stomach. They’ve given each other hand jobs and orgasms are tiring. Yuri has fantasised about sucking cock and wonders if that makes him a bottom, but he loves to watch Beka’s face when he cums, he doesn’t supposed that says much of anything.

“We don’t have to go all the way right away,” Beka says thoughtfully, scrolling back a little at some of the non-penetrative suggestions.

Yuri makes a whining noise. He doesn’t know what he wants, just knows that he wants. Beka makes a thoughtful sound against Yuri’s temple and Yuri practically snuggles into him. Maybe he spends a bit too much time around his cat.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Beka murmurs into Yuri’s hair.

“What if I want you to try?” Yuri grumbles back. They’re supposed to be having a discussion and he’s feeling like he already lost.

He feels the shrug under his head, “We can always stop if you’re not comfortable.”

He’s not saying no but being ‘comfortable’ isn’t really what’s on Yuri’s mind. His eyelids are starting to drift shut and he’s been dozing for a minute, coming too only briefly as Beka removes the phone that had slipped from his hand, puts it on charge and pulls the cover up over them both. They’ve both got to fly home tomorrow and Yuri’s not looking forward to but equally, as Beka wraps his arms around his waist and spoons him warm under the covers, he’s a little grateful for the distance as a traitorous corner of his mind had wondered if JJ did any of these things with Isabelle.

Since then Yuri has been doing some reading. Not usually something he enjoys. He’s a physical learner and perhaps that’s to his advantage, he understands the concept of working a muscle until it’s pliable but it’s still a very strange feeling when he slips a lubed finger past his ass. He’s surprised that he’s already two knuckles deep and it’s still so tight, he has to twist and arch and much to his embarrassment pull one of his cheeks out the way with his other hand to sink to the third knuckle. He stills for a moment, it’s not as bad as he’d thought it was going to be. Then he starts to move his finger, just probing the flesh and it’s like stars behind his eyelids. He can feel himself flexing against his finger and he writhes because he wants more but the angle is awkward and he can’t quite manage to both finger himself and jerk himself off. Yuri pushes his face into his pillow and groans in frustration. He’s starting to understand why all the guides recommended toys but there’s no way in hell he’d buy one.

He shows Beka over Skype, or at least that was his intention, he nearly didn’t go through with it. The idea had gotten him hard, wanting to build Beka’s anticipation so that everything they’d murmured about doing to each other was not only on the table but impossible to resist. But the actual reality, seeing his reflection in a pixilated cam preview, he can’t really bring himself to do it. Beka suggests doing it off cam and Yuri’s interest is peaked. Beka spends a minute adjusting his phone so all Yuri can see is his face, Beka’s sat in what looks like an office chair and Yuri can see the tell-tale flexing of his shoulder and arm as his hand pumps what Yuri can’t see. The expressions filing across Beka’s face are so familiar to him now, he knows Beka’s going slow, when the other arm flexes and his nostrils flare as he bites his lip he knows he handling his balls too.

Yuri feels himself grow hard, his phone’s already propped on the stand, he lies down in the position he’s found is best, his face pressed into the mattress and angled towards the phone so he can still look up at Beka. He’s lubed up two fingers. He’s been practicing. Yuri hadn’t known exactly how much of an exhibitionist he was, despite his sport of choice, until the fact that Beka couldn’t keep his eyes off him and lost all his control as Yuri fingered himself. Yuri even saw the evidence spurt over the part of Beka’s chest he could see but Yuri wasn’t done and he was so turned on he wasn’t sure he could be done. He’d been horny before but that was a matter of minutes, this felt like it could go on for hours.

“How does it feel Yuri, tell me how it feels.”

Yuri swallowed, “It’s so warm Beka and so tight,” Beka groans despite being on his way down from an orgasm he sounds like when he’s on the brink of another. “I want-I want-”

“What do you want Yuri?” Beka is breathless and his arm is moving again and his mouth is half twisting in what might be a grimace. Yuri knows his cock is probably sensitive so the fact that even that can’t make him resist touching himself to what Yuri is doing makes him so hard it hurts and his hips start to make jerking movements of their own.

“I want you,” Yuri breaths, “I want to know what it’s like.”

Beka is looking at him as desperately as Yuri feels he’s looking at Beka.

“Cum for me Yuri, I want to see it.”

Yuri has to pull his fingers out and he groans at the loss, flops immediately onto his back and pumps with his other hand, fisting his cock, thumbing the tip, squeezing and stroking until he’s arching off the bed and shuddering and everything’s gone white and all he can hear is Beka panting words that sound like ‘fuck’, ‘hot’, ‘damn it’ and ‘close’.

They’ve both gone lax and all they can do is breathe and it’s like the first time they lay together in Yuri’s bed, jacking off side by side and both desperately wanting to touch the other.

It took about fifteen minutes till they’d both calmed down enough to clean themselves up and both were too exhausted for any real conversation but neither wanted to hang up. Yuri ended up falling asleep on the call and Beka watched him sleep wanting very much to be there. Eventually he had to hang up and go to sleep too.

.

.

.

Beka had liked Yuri’s Grandad’s custom piroshky, but the Katsudon’s mother’s katsudon was everything Yuri remembered it to be and Beka had loved it. He’d fumbled a bit with the chopsticks but picked it up quickly. Or rather he picked up the dish quickly. Viktor even let the Katsudon have a bowl since he’d got a silver medal, whispered something around rings and gold that made the Japanese man blush.

They’d gone in the bath later, Beka had needed some convincing and eventually compromised to sit in a towel, but then the towel got wet and was more hassle than it was worth and everything worth hiding had been seen by then so he just let it go. The four had just relaxed in the hot water, enjoying the gently trickle sounds, the wind in the leaves and just the peace of the place. Yuri hadn’t been wrong when Barcelona had felt like Hasetsu but it didn’t compare to being back. Viktor was massaging Yuuri’s shoulders and the dark haired man was leaning into him and sighing contentedly.

Not really a secret and not really public, not really declared and more than just friends, Yuri wasn’t sure what to do. He knew what he wanted to do and without really thinking about it he just relaxed against Beka and put his head on his shoulder and just watched Viktor and Yuuri. Viktor pressed a kiss to the back of Yuri’s neck and murmured they should probably go. Yuri wished they were already gone and part of him wished they’d stay. Viktor had been running his hands off over Yuuri, strokes his hair, kissed his temple, kissed his neck, there was something so familiar and attentive to the way Viktor was being that made him….envious? Which seemed silly because Beka’s arm slipped around him as soon as they were gone.

“I don’t think we’ve been naked this long without touching before,” Beka murmured.

“We should probably get out before we get puny,” Yuri murmured back. Beka laughed and they both got out and fetched their towels. They had to pass Yuuri’s room to get to theirs and Yuri felt something clench inside him at the muffled noises through the paper door.

“You sure you want to do this?” Beka asked as he slide the screen door closed as Yuri settled onto the bed.

“Why you asking me if I’m sure now?” Yuri frowned.

Beka smiled, “Relax Yuri,” then he advanced, pushing Yuri down into the bed as he climbed on top of him, “you get loud Yuri, these walls are thin.”

Yuri felt his heart thump in his chest but that cloudy feeling was coming back and reason was going out the window. He brought his legs up and clamped them around Beka’s waist forcing the Kazakh man flush against him. “I want you,” he hissed, “and I want you _now_!”

Beka was more than willing to comply.

This time there was no stilling of hands. No hesitancy.  Kissing. Frantic kissing. Mouth to mouth, fisting hands in each other’s hair, brushing robes off their shoulders and rolling one on top of the other. Yuri mouthed his way down Beka’s chest, leaving bruising mark after bruising mark, sucking and teething at his nipples till Beka keened. Feeling his way along muscles thighs, lightly haired, tongue trailing a hot line down his hip and fisting Beka’s cock, peeling back the foreskin, the tip red and aching. Yuri barely even paused for breath before he wrapped his mouth around it, almost too keen and having to back himself up to where he was comfortable. Beka’s hands were stroking his hair, stroking his face, twitching at the back of his head and wanting so much not to hurt Yuri but wanting to push him down. Yuri could feel it, wanted to know what having his nose pressed up against Beka with his cock in his throat would feel like but this wasn’t porn and he wasn’t well practiced but enthusiasm makes up for a lot.

Yuri pulled his mouth off Beka’s cock and pulled himself up to look in his eyes, “Do you wanna know what it feels like?”

Beka looked at him puzzled and Yuri made almost a come hither motion, thrusting two fingers together in the air. The clenched jaw and bobbing adam’s apple told Yuri that Beka was considering it, then he nodded. Yuri lunged for the lube and slicked his fingers and went back to working Beka’s cock, then slicked his other hand for good measure so he could pump and squeeze the way he knew Beka liked what his mouth couldn’t cover. He pressed his middle finger in gently and Beka arched, Yuri gagged and Beka sank back down, taking Yuri’s finger to the hilt. One of Beka’s legs kicked involuntarily and receiving no sign to the contrary Yuri continued.

“Yuri, stop, stop, I’m close,” Beka grunted out between gasping moans.

Yuri released him, sitting up and wiping his hands on the sheets. It occurred to him much later that the Katsudon’s sister would change those sheets but that’s another story.

“My turn.”

Beka grabbed his wrist and pulled him down next to him so Yuri was lieing on his stomach, going up onto his knees and lubing his fingers, “How many do you want? Two or three?”

“Three.” He’d only really managed two, but Yuri was always one for pushing his limits.

“Spread your ass for me Yuri,” Beka whispered against his ear and Yuri fleshed red, pushing his face into the mattress and pulling his cheeks apart.

Doing it to yourself was one thing. But feeling Beka’s fingers inside him, clenching around him and hearing Beka hiss through his teeth in response, the heal of Beka’s hand pressed flat against his coccyx. Then those fingers began to move, pressing, rolling, pouring more lube to thrust in and out and all the while half gasped moans were tumbling out of Yuri’s mouth, groaning into the bed and rocking his hips back for more. He was painfully hard and apart from a few strokes before had barely been touched.

“Beka, Beka now please.”

They’d read somewhere that doggy style made it easier the first time, so Beka put his hands on Yuri’s hips, guiding him onto all fours and pumping his cock a couple of times which only made the tension worse.

“You ready?” Beka asked as he coated his cock and lined it up, rubbing over the hole he’d just been fingering to distraction.

Yuri nodded, all blonde hair hanging and shoulders hunched, looking back at his cock as he felt the head press up against his entrance. He had to remember how to breathe as the first couple of inches went in, stretching wider than before, for all the preparations they’d done. He sank onto his elbows and fisted his hands together as Beka’s hands went to his hips and waited for him to move. Then Yuri started to push back, panting and fisting his hands into the sheets. He didn’t know how much more he could take and then Beka’s thighs were pressed up against his and they both groaned. Yuri felt so _full_ and Beka was calling him hot and tight and so sexy.

Then Beka thrust.

Yuri saw stars.

Before he could catch his breath Beka had looped his arms around Yuri’s waist and was rolling his hips back and forth that created shallow, deep thrusts that Yuri wasn’t sure if he liked or disliked or if he was just beyond feeling. But Beka wasn’t stopping and Yuri wasn’t asking him to stop. Beka’s balance pitched forward and Yuri’s knees gave, he collapsed off of Beka’s cock and a load aching moan came out of his throat at the loss before he even had time to consider the literally paper walls.

Beka reached over him and pull down one of the pillows, helping Yuri up so he could position the pillow under Yuri’s thighs. He couldn’t remember if this was for comfort or to go deeper, but the coolness of the pillow against his aching cock made him make a crying noise that he didn’t understand. Beka was fussing him with his hands and Yuri got back into position as Beka lined up again, this time hands on the bed either side of Yuri’s shoulder blades, Yuri reached for one and entwined his fingers with Beka’s as he sank to the hilt inside him again.

Yuri cried out as Beka began to thrust in earnest, fast, sharp thrusts.

He didn’t know if he was moaning or crying now. Comments about size and skill had seemed so stupid when they were scrolling the internet together in South Korea but now they were spilling out of his mouth in earnest. His brain had short circuited and he didn’t know how to get to what he wanted but Beka was making the sounds he makes when he’s about to cum and Yuri can’t hold out much longer.

Yuri scrambles and twists, pulling Beka’s head down, kissing his cheek and begging him to cum. He’s arched nearly completed and Beka pistons into him all of three more times and stills, pressing Yuri into the bed with nearly all his weight. He can feel every pulse and every twitch that’s familiar when he does it with his hands but somehow this is that a hundred times over. He doesn’t know if he can really feel anymore as Beka rolls off him and Yuri rolls and he really isn’t thinking about Beka anymore as he desperately fists his cock and pumps till he’s shuddering and spilling into his hand, across his hip and some even lands on Beka who is still breathing hard.

“We’re going to need another bath,” Beka comments and they both dissolve into laughter.

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.

.

No one said anything but it felt like they all knew but when Viktor’s road had gaped and fallen off one shoulder Yuri had caught glimpses of what looked like scratch marks and what he now knew were ‘love-bites’ so Yuri figured they were at least in company. He wasn’t sure he’d call it ‘good’ company.

Before the end of the weekend he’d sucked Beka off, nearly chocked on the cum and bailed on actually swallowing. Beka had swallowed more of him than Yuri was able in kind and the blonde had doubled over Beka’s head letting out strangled cries at the feeling. Yuri was sore but they tried the missionary position but it didn’t have the intensity as the previous two.

Turned out a prostate was for more than cancer and awkward examinations. Yuri had tried pressing Beka’s perineum as he sucked him off but either it didn’t work or he was doing it wrong but it didn’t seem to make much difference.

Still, he’d had worse birthday presents.

.

.

.

He had less than a month till the Worlds and the Katsudon was going from strength to strength whilst Yuri’s Agape was still lacking for all Viktor, Yakov and Lilia’s intructions, training and inputs.

Beka hadn’t gone back to Kazakhstan, he’d flown instead to America to train for the Worlds.

Yuri looked around and wondered if he needed a change of scene.

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.

Against his better judgement and Yakov’s subsequent yelling, Yuri boarded a plane for Vancouver, Canada.


	2. Yuri and JJ

Bella’s away for a shoot but it’s only a week. He likes that they have separate occupations, Bella can ice skate and he’s done his fair share of covers and shoots, so in that sense they’re a good match. Aligned without being intrusive, able to enjoy each other without smothering each other, their sex is like that too. After two years he knows her body well, they’d met when he was fifteen and they were doing a shoot together and he was taken with her from the first moment he saw her. He knows her breasts are sensitive, he knows her favourite position, he knows the cues for when she wants it harder, faster, slower, deeper. But also he knows she likes it when he brushes his lips over the backs of her knuckles, slips his hand into her back pocket when they’re standing together for photos, strokes her hair and kisses the crown of her head when they’re lazily reading magazines in his flat. He knows how she likes her toast, when she just wants a hot water bottle, comfy clothes and to curl up with a movie, what cream to get when the eczema flares up behind her ears because she’s been resting pens there and pushing her hair back over and over because she’s stressed.

He knows knowing a person is more than seeing them naked, more than fucking, more than just physical, knows people are complex even if he is pretty casual about people in general. There are two things that really ruin people he thinks, money and sex. Those things wreck all kinds of relationships. He knows this. He’s seen it happen often enough. Which is why he hasn’t told Bella that he kissed Yuri Plisetsky nearly three weeks ago. He knows he’s gone past the point where saying sorry would mean instant regret. He’s waiting too long and telling her now would prove he was keeping it from her. It would also explain the busted lip.

It hadn’t been wow as kisses go, movies make out that there’s time to think, you pull away and they’re a little stunned, the camera pans to the side so you can see their chests heaving like they’ve been underwater and their chin tilts up to look at you. Then the camera’s over your shoulder and switching between face shots so you can see their gazes flicker from eyes to mouth in the instant before they’re tearing at each other. All those wet smacking sounds as one relaxes into the other, curving their body into theirs and the rest depends on the rating of the film.

He’s watched his fair share of porn, when Bella’s away and even when she’s there and they’re watching it together and they’ve reached a point of being cynical rather than turned on by what is just an exhibition of tongues and fluid that seems more desperate than sexy. She’d given him oral once, sucked hard till he came and looked up at him the whole time, and damn that had been hot, pulled away leaving a trail of saliva and cum between her mouth and crown of his penis, opened her mouth to show him his load and then swallowed dramatically to show him an empty mouth. She’d been imitating something they’d seen and honestly he wasn’t sure he was into it.

“Good,” she’d said, “because that was gross. All that spit all over the place,” she’d made a shuddering motion. “What do you think about it?”

“Think about what?” JJ had asked.

“Like would you swallow cum?” she’d asked, she’d been lieing in his arms and she’d turned over to lie on her side, propped her head up on a bent elbow and waiting for his answer.

He cocked and eyebrow and smirked, budging down to mirror her pose and loving the look she gave him that told him she knew he was taking the mickey, “What like my own?”

She shrugged, “I guess, unless we’re having a threesome you’re not telling me about?”

He snorted, “I know I’m flexible babe but I’m not sure I could-”

She grabbed a pillow and smacked him with it, knocking him laughing onto his back, “You’re an ass, just answer the question.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever thought about it.”

“I don’t think most guys do.” She was kneeling beside him now.

“Why do you ask then?” he was dragging his fingers up and down her thighs. She had very skinny legs, proud of what she called a ‘thigh gap’. He’d knelt next to her once and they’d compared how high the top of his thighs were from the ground compared to hers. His were all tanned, waxed hairless muscles and hers were pale and lean.

“Like most guys find it hot.”

“Do they?” he raised an eyebrow again and she shoved his chest.

“But do you ever think that’s because they watch too much porn?” he cocked his head to the side and she went on, “like this whole ‘I wanna cum on your face, in your eyes, in your hair’ business, but they’re not mad keen when it happens to them? Why do they think girls would want it either?”

“This is sounding like political sex ed.”

“Maybe it should be.”

“I know a charity that might be good for that, you could be a spokesperson,” she looked at him like she thought he was taking the mick again, “I’m serious, you clearly care and you’re not wrong, I can make a call in the morning?”

“You know something,” she said softly as she settled back down against his side, all warm soft skin, “I love you.”

“I love you too babe,” he bent his head to hers and kisses her slow. They might have gone to sleep then if he hadn’t. Instead she’d shown him just what she thought of how a man should have sex with a woman and damn he wasn’t complaining.

.

.

.

Yuri had not been thinking about JJ’s tongue in his mouth.

Yuri had not been looking at pictures of the Canadian skater in very form fitting red underwear.

Yuri had not been wondering what the contents of that bulge looked like.

Yuri had not been thinking of kissing him again.

Yuri had not gotten a little hard at the thought.

Yuri wanted to throttle the bastard canuk.

He’d thought finding the rink would have been difficult. There eight. But google reverse image search works wonders. So Yuri found himself rink side watching JJ trace lazy patterns in the centre of the ice whilst ordinary skaters lapped the edges. But now he was here he couldn’t quite work out what he’d come for. As much as he’d wanted to kick the shit out of JJ at the banquet now that he was actually standing here he couldn’t summon up the same level of anger. But at the same time he wanted to grab him, pull him close and scream in his face. Fuck this.

“Hey asshole.”

Yuri took pleasure in watching JJ fumble coming out of a spread-eagle jump prep as he cast about for the voice he recognised. The smug bastard didn’t even miss a beat, a shit-eating grin spread over his face. He even waved.

“Kitten! Welcome! You here to skate?”

Yuri’s skin crawls, he wants to skin him.

But it makes a sort of sense. If Yuri had ever had any interest in theatre or the arts or musicals, or possibly even a greater interest in the world of ballet beyond what it did for his skating, he might have come across the saying that when a character doesn’t know how to say his feelings, he sings, and that’s when the true soul comes out. For them they weren’t musicians (well okay maybe that conceited ass JJ was, and he’d thought ‘Yuri on Ice’ was egotistical until ‘King JJ’) but the ice was the reflection of their souls. Whatever Yuri couldn’t find to say behind closed doors, he could say on the ice.

“Come on Kitten,” JJ makes a beckoning gesture, “or are you a ‘fraidy cat?”

“Stop calling me that,” Yuri snarls at him, he’s already wearing skates so he stalks to the nearest entrance to remove his guards. JJ has done a lap of the rink and goes into a quadruple toe loop with his hands on his hips in the centre of the rink.

“Quit showing off,” Yuri barks gruffly as JJ comes round to join him on the ice.

“I don’t know if I’m flattered or insulted you think _that’s_ showing off,” JJ jokes, “why don’t you show me how it’s done?”

Yuri knows he’s being bated, but he kind of wants to do it anyway, people are casting glances their way, whether they recognise him or not he doesn’t know but Yuri needs to feel confident and untouchable right now and soon he’s spinning through the air, one arm up, pirouetting out in perfect form. There’s something about skating that makes him feel desirable. He’s coming back round to where he left JJ but he’s nowhere in sight. Yuri’s about to turn when he feels a slap to his thigh and his whole body jolts as JJ passes him.

“You’re all spin and no height with those fairy legs,” JJ calls, skating backwards now.

“Height isn’t everything,” Yuri snaps back at him, “and don’t call me a fairy either,” he adds as an afterthought.

“Then what should I call you Princess?” JJ pouts at him teasingly and then does a mocking imitation of Yuri’s short programme step sequence.

“I don’t want you to talk to me at all,” Yuri growls through ground teeth, skating past.

“You just want to skate then?” JJ asks, going into a combination spin.

Yuri follows with his signature half-Biellmann. JJ is flexible, but he’s not got the arch in his back to match Yuri’s form and Yuri feels just a little bit better watching him try.

It becomes a game of guess the jump, both fighting for the lead and fractions of seconds to copy take offs. Quads, singles, triples, doubles, combination jumps. The ice has cleared to give them room and the once gentle music is playing louder and harder, with a thundering beat that vibrates all the way to Yuri’s core. They’re not so much skating together as trying to out-skate each other. Vogue-ing pose after pose to the pounding beat, using every ounce of flexibility they have. Yuri’s flying through the air in split jumps that strain his thighs to pull his legs up into toe-touches. He can feel sweat starting to trickle down his spine, his hair is flying into this eyes and still he whirls.

Then there’s a pair of warm hands on his hips. “The fuck are you-”

“Let me throw you.”

He doesn’t have time to analyse JJ’s tone before he’s in the air and it’s a height he’s never experienced in a solo jump. He dips lower when he comes out of it and only vaguely registers the applause.

“You know how to spiral?”

“Do I look like a fucking girl to you?”

JJ smirks at him, but he’s holding out a hand and his hand had been really warm even through his practice gloves when it had been on Yuri’s hip early. He takes that hand and JJ leads him round, leans to the outside, pivoting on the point of one skate as Yuri lays out almost parallel to the ice and all he can focus on is the heat of that hand. That hand  is the only thing keeping him centred, momentum is doing the rest and it’s almost like the rest of the world has melted away.

JJ pulls him back up and twirls under their connected arms, other hand on his heart, affecting the besotted. The cheering is louder now, the music is winding down and JJ isn’t letting go of his hand. They alternate who is leading and when the final note his their joined fists are in the air, second arms behind their backs and they’re both breathing hard.

Yuri’s heart is thundering against his chest. From the skating. Only from the skating.

“You want to go for dinner?”

Yuri yanks his hand out of JJ’s grip, “What the hell is wrong with you?” Yuri practically spits at him between ground teeth, he feels suddenly embarrassed as well as angry. He makes directly for the exit and people move out of his way, he’s trying to find somewhere to be alone but he can’t storm out the building on his blades and he’s left his guards on the other side and he doesn’t know the rink well enough to know where to go. He’s tense and shaking and ends up in what looks like a fire escape corridor, he knows enough English to recognise the sign above the door.

“You forgot these.”

Yuri snatches his guards from JJ. He should have said thank you. Beka might have said thank you. Even if it was JJ. But words catch in Yuri’s throat and instead he’s left staring. But JJ’s not standing in his usual cocksure way, his shoulders are hunched inward a little, he’s leaning towards the wall as if he needs a bit of support and Yuri sees for the first time a reflection of how he’s been feeling. He’s reminded of the Grand Prix, the last time he’d seen JJ look this way was coming off the practice ice the day of the Free skate, as if he’d been hollowed out. He hadn’t met Yuri’s eyes on the podium and he wasn’t meeting Yuri’s eyes now.

“I’m hungry.”

JJ perks up, “I know a place.”

They change back into boots, pack up their skates and shrug on jackets against the weather. Everywhere seems to have a view and they walk in silence. The place JJ takes them specialises in fish and serves it with fried potato coated in cheese.

“What do you call these?” JJ asks, holding one up.

“A heart attack,” Yuri replies feeling a bit confused by the question.

“Like what’s the Russian for it,” JJ prompts, he seems genuinely interested and Yuri’s just feeling weirded out.

“Kartofel' fri,” he replies.

“So fries right?” Yuri shrugs. “You been to the UK?” Yuri shakes his head. “They call them chips. Isn’t that weird?”

“What’s it matter what you call it?” It comes out more aggressive than it should. Whether its how it meant it to come out he doesn’t know. This whole thing is weird.

He can count the number of people who matter to him on both hands, Grandpa, Yakov, Lillia, Mom, Beka, Yuuko, Viktor, Mila, Georgi, Yuuri. There’s been only family, training and the rest of the competition until Yuuko. He’d felt humiliated and abandoned when he left Japan and initially thought maybe she fancied him, but instead she’d just sent encouragement, asked how he was and sent pictures of Makkachin. The girls occasionally stole her phone to send him things that got them grounded. He didn’t have siblings. He thought maybe this was what that might have been like. Or cousins maybe.

Mila and Georgi were safe, Mila because she was never going to compete against him, whether they failed or succeeded didn’t matter, she was probably closest he had to a sister. Georgi was never going to be competition. Maybe it was kind of mean, to think of him only that way, he’d always been nice to Yuri, when he wasn’t sobbing over him over his latest break up. Yuri had never seen so many emotions from a man.

Beka was the closest he’d had to a friend despite being competition. Yuri would never have looked at him twice if he hadn’t asked him directly to be friends. Beka had such a different outlook to Yuri. He wanted to be his best, not necessarily _the_ best, Yuri wasn’t sure he saw the difference, surely the result was the same in the end? But when he’d followed Beka to a club the night before the exhibition skate, seen him light up to the music he’d known two things. One. Beka was the only one he wanted to trust with his crazy idea to abandon his previously planned routine. Two. Beka made his mouth dry grinding up against other dancers like that. Beka hadn’t known he’d followed him, in fact he’d told him to stay behind because he was fifteen. Yuri hadn’t liked it any more then than when they were lying in his bed together.

Whether they were friends now he didn’t know.

He’d seen how Viktor was with Chris, how Yuuri was with Pitchit. They could have not seen each other for months and then it be only like it was yesterday. Talk for hours about nothing in particular. Go toe to toe in competition and still cheer each other on in the same arena. Yuuri confused him, sometimes he was a crying baby mess who’d jump at shadows and other times like he knew exactly who he was and what he wanted, mostly that was on the ice but he’d seen a bit of it that first time in Hasetsu. When Yuri had confronted him about why Viktor had left Russia and Yuuri had just told him to ask him himself. Like it didn’t fucking matter at all that he’d ruined Viktor’s career and stolen him from Yuri even though he’d promised. Then he’d asked him to teach him a quad salchow. They were competition, why had that stupid Katsudon even asked? But Yuri had liked teaching him. It was weird.

But they weren’t friends.

They weren’t.

He’d gone out for breakfast with Beka in Hasetsu, passed him an earbud across the table to play him a song he thought he might like when Viktor and Yuuri had spotted them. Shopping for groceries by the look of the bag Viktor was carrying, they’d waved and carried on.

It hadn’t been a date.

They were friends.

But now he was out with JJ.

He didn’t want to be friends with JJ.

Yuri jolted when fingers snapped in front of his face.

“Lost you kid, zoned out on me.”

“Don’t call me a kid!” Yuri snapped, feeling his cheeks warm and not really knowing why and hating that as much as hating the thought of going red in front of JJ.

“Fine fine, if you’re gunna get that worked up over it Yuuuuri,” JJ smirked, dragging out the centre of his name.

Yuri’s tongue felt too big for his mouth. Calling him JJ or That Shithead was fine, but hearing _his_ name out _that_ mouth felt wrong.

JJ appeared to be waiting for him to say something back but Yuri didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know what to do. He wasn’t even sure where his hotel was from here, the battery on his phone was running low so he didn’t think he’d be using google maps any time soon. He supposed now would be a time to bring up why he was here. If he could straighten out in his head what that was.

“You didn’t deserve bronze.”

He doesn’t know what made him say it but thoughts of Beka are swirling around in his head and it just came out.

“You’re right.”

Yuri stills, looking up from the sticky maple syrup mess of his late-desert at JJ. JJ isn’t looking at him; he’s skewering a left over strawberry with his fork and pushing it round in the powdered icing sugar. Yuri never expected to ever agree with JJ on anything, if JJ said the sky was blue Yuri would say it was green just to not have to agree with him. If he’d planned this conversation this would not be how he thought it would go.

“I didn’t earn it,” JJ eats the strawberry, “I only got that medal because the others didn’t do as well as they might’ve. My parents have it, I can’t look at it.”

Yuri doesn’t know what to say. He agrees with what JJ is saying. But worse than that he agrees with how JJ feels. He’d hated coming second to JJ at Skate Canada and the Rostelecom Cup, but that’s because he’d wanted the gold, put in his best and still lost. There had been once, in the dark, when those kind of thoughts tend to grow, when he’d wondered if he’d really earned his gold medal. If maybe, if JJ hadn’t fucked up, if he might have been standing there with another silver, watching the smug bastard bite his third gold medal, winking down at him and doing that insufferable JJ style.

“I wanted to win in a fair fight.” There’s a break in his voice that betrays more of how he’s feeling than he realises.

“I’m sorry.”

“You should be!” Yuri snaps, “You were a fucking disgrace.”

It feels good to be talking about this. He’d broken Viktor’s record with his Agape, won two silver medals and gold at the finals. Everyone had been so proud. They’d even been allowed a party, jointly with Mila’s bronze, before Yakov had them back to training. He’d tried to explain how he felt to his Grandpa but it hadn’t worked.

“Yuratchka,” he’d said, “you can only do your best, and you must always be grateful for what you achieve.”

It hadn’t felt right to talk to Beka about it. Maybe if he’d had a medal too. But if he had then maybe he wouldn’t have felt this way at all.

He didn’t want them to think badly of him. But winning against someone who has already lost didn’t feel like winning at all. It still felt like a silver to him.

“Because of you I don’t even know if I deserve the gold medal. You shouldn’t have been in the finals if you were going to choke!”

“You deserve it,” Yuri peers at his face to see if he’s taking the piss but his face is open and honest for once, his eyebrows are surprisingly expressive, he’s smiling instead of smirking, “made me glad we were never in juniors together. Although I think my sister is a bit of a fan of yours,” he winks at Yuri. Yuri doesn’t give a crap about JJ’s sister. “I know what it’s like, for the person you want to beat most to let you down, I thought I’d be standing over Viktor Nikiforov at the Grand Prix Final, I liked to think he was running from me, but it doesn’t matter why he left. Geocometti felt it more I think.”

He doesn’t want to agree with JJ.

He doesn’t want to be friends with JJ.

He doesn’t want to stop talking to JJ.

JJ understands.

“I’m sorry by the way.”

“What?”

“For kissing you.”

It’s like a bucket of ice water. He’d been enjoying the conversation. He’d started to feel like he knew where he stood a little bit more than this time yesterday and now he felt like he was drowning. He didn’t want to talk about this. He didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want to feel disappointed and not know why.

“I don’t want to talk about that.”

The conversation has dried up and they’re both feeling awkward so JJ hails for the bill. JJ is walking Yuri back towards his hotel because his battery is dead and he doesn’t know the way. It’s a student city so it’s pretty lively even though it’s late, the hotel is in sight but there’s music and lights coming out of a club down a different road and JJ asks if Yuri wants to go.

Yuri doesn’t mind being alone, not so much alone as independent. He doesn’t need the company. He’s got no answers and feels no better and will probably book the flight home tomorrow. But even though he feels awkward and confused and frustrated he’s actually maybe not entirely hating being around JJ. The music does sound good and he could do with a distraction so he says yes.

That’s probably where it all went wrong.

.

.

.

JJ’s face is known and it’s enough to get them past the doors, he knows Yuri is underage so he has to buy the drinks. Yuri says he drinks Vodka with his Grandfather but JJ doesn’t know whether to believe him so he gets him a Tiger beer for now and laughs at the face he makes about the label.

“You taking the piss out of me?”

“Would you punch me again if I said yes?”

They shout over the music and JJ is surprised to see Yuri laugh.

It’s akward-ish to start but they’re both good looking so they’re soon surrounded by people. A circle forms and JJ wonders if Yuri is just all competition, this is the second dance off he’s seen him in. JJ stands by his theory that Yuri is liquid, all of his movements fluid but aggressive and he finds himself splitting beside Yuri to the beat. He quirks a smile that they favour opposite leading legs, but later Yuri does a death drop and gyrates on the floor because he’s lost in the song and the beer from earlier and JJ thinks he needs a glass of water. Or a cold shower. He doesn’t know what made Yuri come to Canada. He doesn’t know what Yuri and Otabek are to each other. But he knows he doesn’t like it when Yuri ends up between an attractive couple, the girl in front of him is grinding back to front against him whilst the man behind him has his hands on his hips. The pale stretch of skin between his jeans and his shirt as it rides up is doing things to JJ’s mind that it shouldn’t.

JJ has never fancied another man before. He’s thought other women were hot but always gone home to Bella. He’s realising this is the first time he’s thought of her all day. He hasn’t called like he normally would. He can’t now because it’s late. Not because he feels like a traitor. Just because it’s late.

He gets himself another drink.

But rather than draining his mind all it seems to do is focus on Yuri. It had started when he saw them kissing at the after-party, Yuri had been straddling Otabek’s hips and kissing him hard, fumbling and pushing him back into the sofa they were on. Effeminate skaters weren’t a novelty and JJ had hardly been thinking of Yuri as feminine after his exhibition skate. JJ had wanted to be Otabek then. He’d put it down to the Champagne and left them to it but then when Yuri had him pinned against a wall he’d felt something. Yuri hadn’t kissed him back the way he kissed Otabek, no, he’d punched him and stormed off. Fair enough.

He’d thought perhaps it was just a curiosity. What were they doing together behind closed doors? Maybe he was just confusing being nosy with lust. Maybe he should have just asked Bella if she wanted to try anal. Maybe he should just stop thinking about this. He definitely shouldn’t have another drink. He wasn’t drunk, he wasn’t even buzzed but he didn’t want to blame drink for his decisions. He can’t figure out what is fascinating him about Yuri, he’s never been particularly into blondes, it’s not his height, it’s not his figure (even if that maddening glide won’t get out of his head), he can’t pin it down to one thing. Then those sea-green eyes are looking at him and all he wants to do is kiss him again.

Instead he waves. Yuri appears to be having fun and JJ wonders if Yuri has ever had a lot of _fun_. JJ went through a lot of coaches, he was and still is, obstinate about skating _his_ way. He wants to win with JJ style or not at all. It’s not all about points. He knows he’s lucky that he’s had both his parents not only support him but be immersed in the sport, his brother and sister are both competing in the junior season this year and he’s so proud. But he has a life outside of skating too and he has Bella, who has her friends separate from him, girls she and her older sister went to school with. There’s about twenty of them and they all get together regularly with and without their respective arm candy. It’s nice.

He wonders before this season what Yuri’s had.

His parents had been so proud of him for clawing back that bronze medal. He’s let them keep it at their house, their retirement home in Nova Scotia, so it’s far enough away from him. Maybe he had done well, he hadn’t taken a whole season and glamorous new coach to make a comeback. But he felt like a weight had been lifted talking to Yuri about it earlier.

Worlds was only a couple of weeks away and whilst of course he was aiming for gold he hadn’t realised how much of him was missing until he looked back at Yuri. He wanted to win in a fair fight too. He wanted to push Yuri and for Yuri to push him to the point where they were both panting and broken and he was still talking about ice skating right?

.

.

.

“You didn’t need to follow me to my room,” Yuri says between yawns. It’s just gone 3am, they’d been out till closing. JJ had refused to buy him anything alcoholic after that first beer, but he hadn’t had anything himself either so Yuri supposed it was okay. Besides, they’d done some really nice mixes of fruit syrups and cream that Yuri that had gotten Yuri on a sugar high.

“You might have gotten lost,” JJ jokes, he’s leaning on the wall beside the door as Yuri goes through his pockets for the card key. He’s got a necklace and several bracelets of glow sticks on that don’t show up much in the hall lights. Yuri has some too. They’d been thrown amongst the crowd along with what JJ identified as a ‘pixie stick’. Yuri had wondered if he was meant to snort it until JJ had cracked the top open and knocked back what turned out to be sour dust. It had made Yuri’s eye water the first time but he’d liked it. There were a couple sitting in the belt loops at the back of his jeans.

He felt one begin to move and looked to see JJ slowly pulling one out. “Hey, get off, those are mine!”

“Didn’t your mother ever teach you to share,” JJ is teasing him. He’s gotten a bit better at taking the teasing. It still riles him up but he can respond now.

“Didn’t yours teach you not to steal?” he makes a snatching motion but JJ holds it out of reach.

“Touche,” JJ smirks lazily, “you want it?” he pops it open, “come and get it.”

Yuri’s brow furrows, snatching is one thing but he’ll be damned if JJ makes him jump. Stupid tall bastard but JJ is pouring the contents into his mouth, “Hey!” Yuri protests again and JJ stops, there’s about half the sherbet left and JJ sticks his tongue out so Yuri can see the quickly discolouring powder before he swallows.

Yuri swallows himself when he watches JJ’s Adams apple bob.

“Fine, you can keep it,” Yuri turns back to his door, he’s found the key.

“Are you sure you don’t want it back?” The lock flashes red, he makes a frustrated noise and wipes the card back and forth on his shirt to try again.

“Yuri.”

Yuri turns, JJ is behind him, but behind is too long a word as JJ is actually very close. He’s actually casting a shadow onto Yuri.

“Open your mouth.”

Yuri’s a little disappointed, he had hoped to save the sticks. It hasn’t occurred to him he could buy more. He doesn’t know they’re common and cheap. Only that he likes them. But JJ is taping his cheek with the open stick and he’s in just a good enough mood to comply. He sticks out his tongue first though. JJ tips the powder onto Yuri’s tongue and that delicious prickling sensation is filling Yuri’s mouth. He likes to push the powder onto the roof of his mouth with his tongue and he has to swallow a couple of times because it does make his mouth feel dry. JJ’s tipped the last of the stick onto his own tongue. Yuri sees him wince a little as the sour hits.

Yuri laughs a little at his face.

JJ had pinched his eyes shut but they’re open now. The grey before a storm hits. The kind of eyes that look dark from far away and lighter the closer you are to them. Yuri wouldn’t haven’t noticed that before now.

“Yuri.”

Something’s changed about how JJ is saying his name. Not just that he’s saying it but the way he says it. He’s feeling a little crowded.

“Kiss me Yuri.”

Yuri thinks he’s joking. But he’s very close and looking very serious, but serious isn’t the right word. Intense might have been better. He’s looking at Yuri’s mouth and his hands are hovering at his sides like they want to reach for Yuri but daren’t.

His heart has started to race, pounding a furious rhythm against the inside of his chest and everything’s started to go fuzzy.

“Net,” Yuri replies and turns around to try the door again. He’ll let himself in, he’ll shut the door, and tomorrow he’ll book his flight home and never speak of this night again.

There’s something about situations like these, pent up and charged when all your nerve endings seem to be on fire, the hair stands up on the back of your neck and you feel like you’re being touched even when you’re not. JJ was close up behind Yuri, he felt his breath tickle the hair beside his ear, “Kiss me,” he whispered.

The light has flashed green. Yuri only has to turn the handle.

He hesitates.

He turns.

JJ is closer this time, curved in towards him but still not touching. Tight as a bow string and ready to launch if only Yuri would bend with him.

“Look at me.” Yuri does. “I want you to kiss me.” JJ’s face is close to his.

The honesty of it rocks Yuri. Rocks him forward onto the balls of his feet and upward until his mouth meets JJs.

This is apparently all the other skater has been waiting for because he’s crushing Yuri to him and his tongue is swiping against Yuri’s and Yuri doesn’t know what to do because Beka doesn’t kiss like this so he copies JJ. But then Yuri’s tongue is in JJ’s mouth and he’s sucking on Yuri’s tongue and Yuri moans. When he pulls away he takes JJ’s bottom lip with him, between his teeth and JJ groans in response. There’s something about that sound that makes Yuri’s pulse race.

JJ isn’t done it seems. Yuri is backed up against the door and JJ’s is kissing him that way again and he can’t get enough. JJ’s hands are cupping his face and Yuri’s hands are holding his wrists, pulling JJ towards him instead of holding him back. JJ is tilting his chin up and moves his mouth to Yuri’s neck, he doesn’t suck hard, doesn’t mark, just kiss after electrifying kiss that makes Yuri’s skin feel _alive_. Then he’s trailing kisses up towards Yuri’s ear and he can’t suppress the shudder that racks the whole of his left side as JJ swipes his tongue around the shell of Yuri’s ear and sucks the lobe into his mouth. His fingers are brushing down Yuri’s neck and the shuddering won’t stop, Beka’s never kissed him like this and he’s getting hard. He turns his face towards JJ, presses his cheek into the other’s, cool and fevered skin and JJ takes the hint, coming back to ravage Yuri’s mouth with his tongue again.

This is probably where they should have stopped but Yuri had fumbled the key, it worked, he twisted the handle and they both stumbled into the dark room.

JJ kicked the door shut behind them.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is definitely longer than I intended. And there's little to no smut in this chapter. I thought originally it was gunna be a one-shot. Then maybe a half and half but the story just keeps extending in my mind. We'll see. Gunna have to slow down on updates though, I have a paper due and this fic has somewhat taken over my life. Expect something in a week maybe.
> 
> I know I am a terrible person for leaving it here. Especially since there is literally no smut in this chapter to hang a yaoi cap on.
> 
> Still, I enjoyed writing this chapter.
> 
> Let me know what you think so far in a comment, thank you for all the support so far!

**Author's Note:**

> I was meant to be working on Part 3 of my ongoing Miraculous Ladybug series...thing...excuse to write quadrangle sex. But then the DVD 6 Extra content video came out and I literally died.
> 
> I've itched to write something for the YoI fandom since the series started but I've had trouble with YuuriViktor because for me the older partner is always the more dominant one, that's just my thing, so ErosYuuri confuses and YieldingViktor confuses me and I can only really write when I'm at least partially into the thing and it just wasn't coming.
> 
> I've shipped Yuri with Viktor in a pre-Yuuri kind of lusting way, but I could never console myself to a 27yo actually being with a 15yo. Limits yo. Age gaps are fine, but not at that stage in life.
> 
> I don't like JJ, he's an ass, but I admire his attitude and I like parts of him and shipping JJ with Yuri was just so sexy. Then Otabek came along and shipping them was easy and Otabek was like a sterner, less ass-y version of JJ but still. Part of it was Yuri being 15. Like being real I know there's plenty that don't wait for the legal limits in their countries but I couldn't do it with a 4 year age gap in play. And I didn't want to have to do time skips and explain people's careers so I just let it go in favor of other projects.
> 
> Literally writing a diary of why I wrote this fic. Why are you reading this?
> 
> Thank you for reading this. The whole fic too. But you're not vested in the author notes as much as you are the pairings so thank you.
> 
> So then I wanted to write a confused, emotional rollercoaster mess. Which I was just going to jump to, but to justify the mess there needed build up and what I thought would be a morning's writing just to de-stress turned into a whole day and I ain't done. 14 pages and we're only half way ish.
> 
> But yeah, people make bad decisions when sex is involved. Teens make a mess.
> 
> I don't even know how this ends, I'm just writing scene to scene and I assume the characters will let me know when they're done.
> 
> Also apologies if I get anything about ice skating culture wrong. It's not my forte. I did some research. Probably not enough. This got way out of control for a bit of jealous porn.
> 
> All feedback is appreciated!


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